The Expedition
by RIP Kevin Trann
Summary: Castiel Novak was new in town, wanting a fresh start. In surprisingly little time he found a job as a big time magazine's head of design's assistant. All he wanted was to be himself without having to worry. Dean Winchester was Expedition Magazine's treasurer, nothing too exciting. Wake up, work, go home. But then a friend gets new help, and things quickly change. A Destiel FanFic.
1. Chapter 1

_Hey you guys! I am so sorry I haven't posted anything in a long while, I think you'd understand when I said that school is beating the shit out of me. The other story I've been writing, The Hunger Games one, I'm not sure I'll be able to finish it now. I'm so sorry! I just don't have the time to get to a computer and type it up anymore. I hate it, but it's true. Now this story I started on my phone later one night and sent it to my iPad so it would be easier to write, and it has been. I've been writing at school when I'm not doing anything and that's really helped with writing time. So theres a much bigger chance of me being able to finish this story. So yeah. Anyways, this is a Destiel fic that popped in my head while I was watching an episode of Supernatural before bed a few nights ago and this is the result for chapter one. I made a trailer for it also and am planning to upload it to YouTube soon, my username is RIPKevin Trann, so it's easier to find once it is up. I may post it to Tumblr as well, and my URL at the moment for that is r-i-p-kevin-trann. And just for y'all's information, they do not meet in this chapter, they meet next chapter. And please forgive me for any spelling mistakes or tense changes, I'm still working on that. It's gotten better, though, so that's a plus. Anyway, that's enough of my babbling for now. Any suggestions after you read would be GREATLY appreciated! I'd love to hear them! And if you don't have any suggestions for me right now then just leave a review! It would also be greatly appreciated! They really do help me to keep writing. Thank you guys for just liking my writing. _

_The characters in this story are not mine, although I so wish they were. All credit for them goes to Supernatural._

_**SUPERNATURAL**_

There was a loud noise in the next room, outside the office. Dean Winchester jumped just a little at the sound, closing his eyes and pursing his lips. Several things could have made that same noise if it fell, but Mr. Winchester had a feeling he knew exactly what it was. And it happened often enough to where it really irritated the shit out of him. "Son of a bitch," he exhaled after a few moments. Another crashing noise came from the same room, sounding like one of those side tables with a small bedside lamp on its top.

Dean put his hands on the side of his office desk and pushed his chair back to stand. He made his way over to the door, this being one of those times he wished that the walls and doors were clear glass and not clouded glass. He's asked several times before if they could change it and just put curtains or something to keep away unwanted eyes, but every time they declined, no matter how much he asked. There was really nothing more he could do about it, unless he wanted to risk getting fired.

He sighed it off and pulled open the doors, and found himself to be correct about the situation yet again. His assistant's computer was on the floor in front of the desk, its screen cracked beyond repair. The small table under the vast window that stretched across the wall with the oak and mahogany bed lamp on its top turned on its side, and the lamp, well it didn't look like it would make it. Sad, too. He really liked that lamp.

Mr. Winchester crossed his arms and glared at the scene before him. "Charles!" he exclaimed, making sure his irritation was clearly noted. "What have I told you about bringing your damn cat to work? It could get us both fired!" He paused for a moment. "And Dustin is going to be pissed you got that computer he bought for you broken. He probably ain't gettin' you another one."

Dean heard light pounding from just around the corner, which meant someone, most likely his assistant, was running up the stairs. He hurled around the corner and lost his balance, landing face first onto the carpet, and Dean flinched as he hit. He quickly went over to help Charles up, and to make sure he didn't get a concussion or anything like that.

"Sorry sir, I, I didn't mean to. I was welcoming Tyler Johnson's new assistant when I heard you call my name. Who knew you could yell loud enough to be heard 3 floors down? I wasn't the only one surprised. I ran from the elevators once I got here." He took a deep breath and tried to continue. "You know, maybe you should ask for an office not in the elevated part of this floor, it's really inconvenient at times.." That was all he got out before he tried to get up and stumbled some, and just sat down for a moment.

Once he was finally standing again, Dean sighed and said, "Well, okay. Just try to be a little more careful next time, alright? Now, what did I tell you about the cat?" Charles just now seemed to be aware that something else had happened besides his name being called, and looked over his boss' shoulder to take in the superficial mess that had been made. His face changed from slightly embarrassed to something along the line of 'oh, shit'. His eyes trailed around a tiny bit that Dean could only assume were following his tabby. He just stared at it, and Dean was getting impatient.

He cleared his throat to get Charles' attention back, who flicked his eyes back to his. He licked lips and repeated himself, slower this time.  
>"What have I told you about the cat, Charles?"<p>

"Um..." he shifted his weight nervously a couple times. "You said not to bring him to work because he's a risk to our jobs. That I just need a cat sitter and he'll be fine."

Dean nodded slowly then added, "precisely. So, why is he here again?" Charles open and closed his mouth trying to say something, but no words were coming out. So he just quirked an eyebrow and waited for his excuse.

After what seemed like an hour, he finally said, "Cookie doesn't like the cat sitter! She won't pet her and she scares her when she stomps around with her headphones in her ears. I'd get someone else to do it but no one else wants too!" Dean rolled his eyes and shook his head at this. He can't keep having him bring her to work, every time he does it's a risk not just to his job, but Dean's as well. He glared at Charles for a minute before saying anything.

"Well too damn bad! I don't want to lose my job because of a cat. You _can't_ bring her here anymore, I'm dead serious this time. If you do it again I'll have to fire you myself, and I really don't want to do that. You do good work. Am I making myself clear?" He looked him straight in the eyes as he said it, and he just blinked at him. Dean raised his eyebrows. "Have I made myself clear?" He asked again, and he nodded.

"Yes sir, crystal." Charles said a little disappointed, and he smiled.

"Good. Now I'd go get that old Dell computer out of the storage room, you still have some files to go through for me, and I have a paper to write for my meeting tomorrow afternoon. "So," he patted Charles' shoulder a couple times, "let's get a move on. Time's a wastin'." He gave a small nod and headed off to the storage room, but then Dean remembered something about someone getting a new assistant today. It couldn't hurt to pop by and say hello before he starts his paper, could it?  
>He jogged a little ways down the hall and called after his assistant. "Charles! Who was it you said had the new assistant? Was it Henry or Tyler? Can't remember." He stopped walking and turned around.<p>

"Tyler Johnson. Head of design, isn't he?"

"That'd be Tyler. Might pop in to say hello in a little while. Thanks!" He nodded once and continued to storage. Dean turned back around and went to pick up the small table and the broken lamp and set them back up. He glanced at the cracked laptop and shrugged as he turned towards his office doors. Charles could pick up his own computer.

He shut the doors behind him and went back to his own desk. He decided he'd finish what he was doing then he would go on ahead and welcome the new guy. It would be impolite not to go and at least say hello. Whoever they are, hopefully they're nicer than the last head of design's assistant.

**_SUPERNATURAL_**

Castiel stood outside the elevator and observed his new working space. The floor was very large, with doors every ten to twelve feet with a small room for an assistant to work, then another door to a bigger room for the assistant's boss.

If he remembered correctly, his new boss was head of design for Expedition magazine, and he was told he may even get to pitch in a few ideas now and then, which was a plus in Castiel's mind. He enjoyed designing those kinds of things. It was how he relieved stress at his apartment. His bedroom was almost completely covered in designs he had done, so this new job should be enjoyable. Or at least he hoped it would be.

He took one last deep breath and then slowly started walking down the hall, scanning the room numbers as he walked past them. Room 417, that's the one he was looking for. He passed the next room number. 413. Then the next. 414. 415. 416.

He stopped in front of the next door, turning to face it. He glanced at the number panel, which of course, read none other than 417. Suddenly he started to shake a little, and his palms began to sweat. Could he actually do it? He wasn't sure now. He could end up hating the job for all he knows, and if he takes it and that happens, he can't exactly quit. He was lucky to find the opening at all, there are so many people searching for jobs now days.

Castiel slowly reached out and wrapped his fingers around the doorknob and then counted to three, but only loud enough for himself to hear. "One. . . Two. . . Three. . ." On three he held his breath and turned the knob, walking into the room. As soon as he stepped in, he smelled it. The whole entire room smelled like vanilla and. . . What was that flower called again? Honeysuckle? Yes, that was it, he was sure of it. The whole room smelled like honeysuckle and vanilla. It calmed him down the slightest bit. It's what his house growing up had smelled like almost all the time.

He walked over and lightly put his hand on his new desk, dragging his fingers over the cool wood. It was nice, soothing to the touch. He lifted his eyes from his workspace and glanced around the room. It was like a designer's paradise. Shelves of books and drawers of paper and pencils everywhere. There was a window that almost went from floor to ceiling and was at least half the wall's size, with gold silk curtains on its sides. And because the room was a darker red, it made everything in the room seem so much nicer. Suddenly he was worried he might break something, or mess something up and get fired before he could do any real work.

Castiel was observing the goldfish on one of the tables in the room when the door to his boss' office opened, startling him. He turned away from the fish to find Mr. Johnson standing a couple feet behind him, smiling ear to ear. He gave a small smile back, even though he hadn't really wanted to. But with a smile as bright and cheery as his, it was hard not to. "Beautiful, isn't he? Named him Pistol. I've had him for three years now. He probably should have died a long while ago, but he's still here and perfectly healthy." Mr. Johnson said.

He nodded and turned back to the fish, leaning over to get a better look. Pistol turned and swam to the other end of the bowl, and that's when he saw it. The black stripe-no, not a stripe-a little spot shaped almost like a pistol, just on that one side, and no other marks on him. "You must be my new assistant, then?" Mr. Johnson said after a moment, breaking the silence in the room that had been held by the fish. "I would have done the interviewing myself, but I was quite busy at the time. I've already been told a lot about you. I'm sorry, but what would your name be again? I was only told once and I never wrote it down!" He turned back to face him and cleared his throat.

"Oh, yes, that would be me. My name is Castiel. Castiel Novak. It's a pleasure to be here, sir." Castiel replied, trying not to sound too shaky, but it didn't go unnoticed.

"Castiel, huh? That's a new one, never heard it before. I like it, very unique. And lighten up, there's nothing to worry about. I'm not that bad! And from what I've been told about you, you'll love this job. Honestly it never gets boring. Crowd of nice people around here as well. There is absolutely nothing to worry about, you'll be fine." Mr. Johnson said cheerily. He smiled at him. He liked his boss already.

"Thank you, sir."

"Please, call me Tyler." Castiel nodded and gazed over at his desk. Tyler watched him and chuckled. "Can't wait it get started, am I right? Well, go ahead, just take today to get settled in, get some knowledge of where everything is, learn to use the equipment and all that. You're not on the clock today at all, so you're free to leave whenever. I need to go back in my office and put the finishing touches on this month's cover for the meeting tomorrow afternoon, so I'll go ahead and leave you be. Just make sure when you do leave, just stick your head in and let me know!" And as he said that, he waltzed right back onto his office and shut the door. Castiel couldn't help but smile.

"Thank you, sir! .. Er, Tyler!" He went and sat in his new chair and sighed, feeling very pleased with himself. That went better than he had thought it would go. He just sat there for a little while and looked around the room, taking it all in. The smell of honeysuckle and vanilla, the books and papers and pencils that were always there to help him relax when he's stressed out, which seemed to be more and more often, now that he thought about it.

He makes himself a little more comfortable and then turns on the new computer, intent on learning everything he can before he leaves in while, maybe an hour or two. He still needs to unpack a lot of boxes and go shopping for some groceries so his apartment's kitchen isn't completely empty. It will be a little after three O'clock in two hours, so he decided he'd just leave then. He took his glasses out of his pocket and put them on, then set to work scouring files on the computer and researching, and looking at books on the shelves, and after a while he couldn't think of anything else.

An hour had gone by and he was still entranced in his research and reading. If it weren't for the knocking on the door he may have never even noticed how much time had passed. He took his glasses off and gently set them on the desk just as the person at the door walked in. He had black hair which stuck up some on his head, a nice brown suit with a deep red tie, although it was on the cheaper side. He could only tell because of how Tyler's suit looked. When he saw Castiel he smiled and walked over. He could already tell he was a nice guy, just by the way he was smiling.

"Hi, um, you're Mr. Johnson's new assistant, aren't you?" He asked.

"That would be me," he stood and held out his hand to the man on the other side of the desk. "My name is Castiel." The man took his outstretched hand and they shook.

"My name is Charles, Charles McCarthy."

"Nice to meet you, Charles."

"Likewise." They stood there for a moment in silence, then Charles spoke up. "So, how'd you hear about the job opening?" Castiel looked at him for a moment, then shrugged.

"I went looking online for a job and I happened to stumble upon it. It's quite far from where I used to reside but my I wasn't too keen of my life there. So I thought I'd check it out, maybe start fresh, you know?" He paused for a moment, then said, "I'm kind of looking at this as a second chance at a good life for myself, I guess." Charles was nodding along to his words by the time he finished talking.

"I know exactly what you mean. Good on you. If you don't mind my asking, how come you didn't really like it, where you used to live? And where did you live?" Castiel took a deep breath and looked out the window, which had a view of the lake. The rays from the sun bounced off the water making look like it was sparkling as its surface churned lightly. Looking at the water, he thought back to one of the last conversations he had with a few of his brothers and his sister before he decided to take off.

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

_Castiel lay on his bed, staring up at the ceiling, try to come up with what to say to his brothers and his sister, Anna. He had been building up the courage to tell them for several years now and he felt he was ready to actually do it. But whatever he came up with to say, he always rejected it and went back to square one. He thought he could just say it straight off, but then he thought that might be too sudden, like throwing it in their faces, so he tossed that idea. He also thought he could make some speech before he said it about how everyone is equal no matter who or what they're interested in and that all he wants is their respect for his life choices, but then he thought that might be too long and boring and they would leave before he could actually get to the point. He just couldn't seem to find something that was in between that sounded good to him. After. Little while linger he couldn't stand it, he supposed he'd just have to wing it and hope all goes okay._

_He made his way downstairs where he knew they'd all be, because it was just about time to eat. They hadn't cooked anything that day, so they had decided to just order a few pizzas. He reached the bottom of the staircase, and carefully looked around the corner into the dining room, where they were all just opening the pizza boxes and serving themselves. He started going in, but then stopped himself. Did he really want to do this? What will they think? Maybe he should wait longer and just drop hints for a while. No, they deserved to know, and the longer he waited the more nervous he would become at telling them. No, he was doing it today._

_He set his jaw and walked in, stopping at the open end of the long mahogany dining table. He received some smiles from his siblings, and a couple hadn't noticed him yet because they were so focused on their food to see that he had come in at all. He had quite a few siblings, as they were a big family. His oldest sibling, Balthazar, was, in retrospect, the man of the house. When he said to do something it's to be done. His mother had run off a long time ago, and their father, well, Castiel had never met him. He didn't really feel a need to, either. He had been told he was always going out and getting drunk, even went to jail a few times. But for some reason he popped into his head, and he wondered what he would think of what he was about to say._

_They had started to sit, but Castiel did not. Once he thought they were comfortable enough, he cleared his throat, and all eyes were on him. It made him start to panic on the inside, a lump forming in his throat, mouth suddenly becoming dry, and palms starting to sweat. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, calming himself down. Before he could say anything, one of his brothers spoke up._

_"You got something to say, Cassie?" His brother Gabriel said, and he could hear just a hint of annoyance in his voice, but he ignored it._

_"Yes, I do, and it's kind of important." He scanned all their faces as they just starred at him, still eating their food, waiting for him to speak._

_"Well," Lucifer said, dragging out the word, "get on with it then."_

_"I am!" Castiel said. "Now. . Everyone on the planet is different, but we're all equal, no matter who or what we're interested in. People are people, and I just don't want you all to think of me differently than you do now." He quickly scanned their faces again, then continued. "You all know my. . Girlfriend, Shelby, right?" Most of them nodded, whereas one or two just kept staring at him. "Yeah well, um. . She's not actually my girlfriend, she never has been. We faked it." This earned him some wide eyes, confused faces, and an eyebrow raise from Gabriel._

_"Wait, _what_?" Joshua said._

_"We faked it. Why? So you and everyone else making fun of me for not having one. I didn't have one because I didn't exactly want one because I. . I. ." The words were there, he just couldn't get them out. "Just say it. ." He said under his breath._

_"What was that?" Michael said._

_"Whatever it is, you can tell us." Anna said with a little smile. He loved Anna, she's always been able to help, even now._

_So he looked her right in the eyes and said it. "I don't want a girlfriend because I like guys." He kept watching Anna as her eyebrows shot up and her mouth formed a silent oh. Gabriel was for some reason smirking, and everyone else was giving him blank stares._

_"What?" Michael asked in a dangerous tone._

_"I knew it." Gabriel said, and Castiel looked at him with furrowed eyebrows._

_"Say that again," Michael demanded._

_He looked his brother straight in the eyes and repeated himself calmly, "I like guys, not girls." He watched as Michael stood and made his way over to stand right in front of him. He looked at Balthazar for just a moment, and all he saw was not anger or surprise or sadness, just disappointment. He swallowed down the lump in his throat that had made its way back and looked back to Michael._

_"No," he said simply, and Castiel furrowed his eyebrows again._

_"What?" He asked._

_"No," he said again. "No brother of mine is going to go around making out with other guys. It's not right."_

_"Well, I'm sorry," he replied, "it's just who I am. You can't change it."_

_"Yes, we can. I know someone, a doctor of sorts, she can help you."_

_Gabriel started to stand pushing his chair back. "Hey, now hold on just a minute-"_

_"Shut up and sit down, Gabriel." Michael snapped. Gabriel glared at him, but he eventually sat down, and crossed his arms. "I know you don't really like guys, Castiel, because I know you. It's not you, it's like. . It's like a kind of sickness. Ideas get stuck in your head and you can't think straight."_

_"Michael, live him alone!" Anna said, who moments later received a very dangerous look from him._

_"Shut _up_, Anna. Stay out of this."_

_"You know what?" She said, standing from her chair, "No." He parted his lips and raised his eyebrows, glowering at her._

_"Excuse me?" He said, shocked she actually told him no, because she rarely ever tells any one of us no._

_"I said no. I won't stay out of it."_

_"You know, I'm with Anna. I won't stay out of it either." Gabriel told Michael, standing up once again from his chair. Anna looked from Gabriel back to Michael, and set her shoulders. Castiel couldn't help but smile a little._

_"You are both idiots," he tells them, "do you really not see how it's wrong?"_

_"No, because it's not. If Castiel likes guys, the he likes guys. It's perfectly acceptable. He's not the only one in the world who likes guys either." Anna said._

_"They're all _sick_, and need _help_." He pushes._

_"No, they're not. There is no problem with being gay, Michael." Gabriel said sternly. Michael turned away front Anna and Gabriel and glowered at Castiel._

_A few minutes passed before he said anything, but when he did open his mouth to speak, he said, "there is in this house." Then he threw a hand up and pointed to the door behind him looking him straight in the eyes, and said, "get out."_

_"_What_?" Castiel said, lips parting in surprise._

_"Get. _Out_. I will not stand for this, get out of our house, Castiel. I'm sorry. But you are sick, and you need to find help. Until then I don't suggest coming back here."_

_"Michael, come on!"_

_"Now." His mouth dropped even more, then looked over at his oldest brother._

_"Balthazar!" He cried. But he just looked at him with more disappointment._

_"Just go, Castiel." He said sadly._

_"But. ."_

_"Go." Michael ordered. He looked back at Anna and Gabriel one last time, who both looked at him with worried faces, then quickly walked out, tightly shutting the door behind him and getting into his car to go somewhere, anywhere. He lived in his car a few days before he contacted Anna and Gabriel and asked them to pack his things and meet him at the end of their street after dark. They did, and he thanked them. And once he finally drove off, he wasn't sure if he'd ever go back._

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

"I, um, don't really want to talk about it." Castiel finally told Charles. "But I moved here from Minnesota just a couple weeks ago." After he told him that, Charles seemed impressed.

"Wow, that's a long way from here! Well, you will love California. There's a lot to do and see. Once you're comfortable and familiar with your new workspace I could-"

"Charles!" A faint, but audible voice interrupts him, and he turns the slightest bit pale.

"Oh, shit, that's my boss. I better go. I'll try and drop by later unless you're already gone, if so then hopefully tomorrow. But it was nice to meet you! I'll see you around." As he said that he took off finning down the hall to the stairs. He could still hear the faint yelling, but it just made him smile. He glanced at the clock at the wall, which read two fifty in the afternoon. He might as well wrap things up here and head back to his apartment. Castiel went and stuck his head in Tyler Johnson's office, then picked up his things and headed out.

His apartment was only six blocks, so he decided to walk instead of taking the bus like he did to get there. The wind made it feel colder than it was, so he pulled his tan trench coat tighter around himself and flipped his collar up. He came to the SuperMart two blocks from his apartment and purchased what he thought would last him the next week and started walking the last two blocks. He finally made it back and was greeted by the manager, who asked him how he was liking it so far. He said he liked it just fine and parted with a nod, and took the elevator to the fourth floor where his room was. He pulled his keys from his pocket and unlocked the door.

He threw them on the little coffee table and then plopped down on the couch once he was inside. He stared at the design sitting in front of him and sighed. He couldn't stop thinking about that night since he left the office. Michael's words pulsed through his head with every step he took. It's wrong. You're sick and need help. Over and over again he had to listen to them, and each time they sounded worse, made him _feel_ worse. He hated it. He was almost positive everyone in his family besides Gabriel and Anna hated him because of who he was. It's not exactly his fault, and he can't change it.

He can't just change who he is because someone else doesn't like him. If anything was wrong, it's Michael's criticism. Maybe if he just bees himself here, without hiding anything, everything will be fine. The people here seemed nice enough, maybe they would overlook it and accept him for him. His boss seemed nice enough, and Charles McCarthy definitely seemed nice enough. He was really beginning to think that he was going to like it here. Not too much stress on his shoulders and nice people, a nice enough place to call his own, and new places to go see. Yes, he was really looking forward to his new life. Maybe things would go as he wanted them to for once. Just maybe.

**_SUPERNATURAL_**

_AN:_

_So what do you think? Is it good, should I continue? I probably will anyway, but it's always nice to know what you think! Let me know, and any and all suggestions are openly welcome! Just leave it in your review if you have one for me and I will definitely take note of it! Thank you lovelies! _


	2. Chapter 2

_Hey guys! I'm SO sorry this took so long! Please don't hate me! As soon as I start something I get crushed with schoolwork. Or so it seems. But I finally finished typing this up! Dean and Cas meet in this chapter, so I hope this makes up for it! :) Again, I'm sorry for any spelling errors/tense changes._

_Psst. Don't forget to go check out my Destiel one shot I recently put up! And leave a review! They'll help for next time I do one._

_Okay, enough from me now. Enjoy!_

_**SUPERNATURAL**_

Castiel awoke the next morning still feeling a little depressed about being reminded of that night, but not too depressed. He felt better than he had in a long time. He's seen what his new work will consist of and he was excited. He's already met two very nice people who seem to like him, and what he's seen of the city is marvelous. Maybe after work he could go around and explore some. He smiled at the thought and got out of bed to prepare himself for the day ahead.

Once he showered, he pulled out his best suit from his closet and threw it on, and then headed to the kitchen to put the coffee on to brew. Once that was done he sat at the table and opened his laptop computer to his email. He stared at his screen and sighed. Junk mail, junk mail, junk mail, and-he leaned a little closer to the screen-a forwarded message from his new boss. He right clicked on it and waited as it pulled up on the screen. Once the page had loaded, he looked at the message, and it read:

Dear staff,  
>We would just like to inform everyone that on Friday,<br>May the 17th, we will cease all work activities at 4:45 PM  
>in favor of the office party that will be held at 7 PM. We<br>will be congratulating some very special, hard working staff  
>members for their extraordinary work on our magazine. We<br>Have been going strong for eleven years and hope to make  
>it twelve. And in addition we would like to welcome all new<br>staff members to the Expedition family. We hope to see  
>good work from you soon! We will see you all on the 17th!<p>

Thank you!  
>Bobby Singer, Founder &amp; CEO.<p>

He read over the letter again, and sat back in his seat. A welcoming party. This place seemed to be getting better and better, and he smiled to himself. It was a little nerve racking, but he would give it a go. He glanced at the clock above the kitchen sink; it read 7:23. Shit! He was going to be late! He's heard its a bad omen to be late on the first day of your new work. He snatched his keys off the coffee table, slipped on his trench coat from the coat rack by the door, and ran out the door, hoping the next bus was going to be there soon.

As soon as he reached the bus stop, the bus was starting to pull away, and he had to run after it part way down the road before it stopped and let him on. "Try to be a little quicker next time, alright? I don't mind letting you on, but it would be better for everyone if you did, okay, sir?" The bus driver said as he made his way up the steps and down the isle to an empty seat.

"Yes, I understand. I lost track of the time and now I am going to be late. I will try to be on time tomorrow. But thank you for stopping." He replied. The man gave a simple nod and started driving again. He watched the man carefully for a little while longer before fixing his gaze on a point in the distance, sighing. He sat in silence as people made conversation around him, and the bus passed buildings and trees, which all went by in a blur of colors.

He wasn't really paying attention, though. He was lost in his own thoughts, about work, about what he was going to do with his new apartment, which was covered in his own work. He was so focused on everything going through his mind, he almost missed his stop. The only reason he managed to get out of his distracted state was the woman who passed him by in the isle whose purse bumped his arm. "Where are we?" He asked the bus driver.

"We're at the corners of Appleguard and Maryland." He replied. Yes, this was his stop. The office building was just down the road, in front of the lake.

"This would be my stop, then. Thank you again, sir." He said. The bus driver nodded as he stepped off. The doors closed and the bus sped off, leaving him on the sidewalk. He looked over his shoulder down Applegaurd street, out across the lake, and after a moment a smile slowly started to creep onto his face, getting bigger as he took off down the sidewalk.

Once he reached the swivel doors, he stopped, putting his hands on his knees to catch his breath before he went inside. He stayed standing for a good five minutes, at the least, letting a woman in a navy blue work suit pass by him in that time. He finally stood up while taking a deep breath, then brushed off his trench coat and pushed through the doors, the cool air from inside settling over him like a cold blanket.

He pushed past people in the lobby, throwing out an "excuse me" every now and then. The elevator doors closed behind him, and with no one else inside, he leaned against the back wall with his eyes closed as it started to move up. The elevator creaked and moaned as it went, but Castiel didn't really seem to notice. Now that he was actually about to start working, he was starting to feel nervous. His stomach had started to churn, but that part could also be from the elevator. His hands were starting to shake just a little and becoming clammy.

But why? He knew there was nothing to really get nervous about. He had seen what his job consists of, and he was ecstatic about it. Why get nervous now? Could it be the party that was planned for after work that day that was throwing him off? Castiel shook his head. It didn't matter what it was, he was going to be fine. He swallowed down his nerves as best he could and stood up a little bit straighter just as the doors opened to his floor in front of him.

He made his way down the hallway, lightly knocking on Mr. Johnson's door before letting himself in. He stopped in front of the main office door, his hand hovering in front of it, contemplating whether or not to tell Mr. Johnson he had arrived or just start working. After a moment, he figured his boss may or may not have a few things to go over with him before he actually started working, so he made the decision and anxiously knocked on the door a couple times, seconds later Mr. Johnson called, "Come in!"

Castiel stuck his head in, and when Mr. Johnson looked up, he smiled at him, a smile that Castiel couldn't help but return. "Ah, Castiel," he glanced at his watch, "it seems that you're early! Very early, might I add."  
>That made him cock his head to the side.<p>

"But you said seven thirty, hadn't you?" He asked, and got a head shake and a chuckle in reply.

"No sir, I said eight thirty. But that's perfectly alright that you're here early. Because since you're here, I have an errand for you to run for me."

Castiel pushed the door open more and stepped halfway inside before he said, "Like an errand in the building or an errand outside the building?"

"Oh, no, inside, and it's very simple. I just need a coffee."

"Oh, alright. How do you take it?"

"Black."

He gave a head nod then said, "be right back."

He left the door ajar as he left, and started walking down numerous halls on the floor until he finally found the kitchen area. He searched a few cabinets before he found the coffee and the coffee filters, but when he turned to the maker, he stopped. He had never used that kind of brewer before. He had one of the older versions that he'd had for years, but this was a 2014 version of one, with several different buttons and functions and he didn't have a single clue how to use it.

Castiel spent the next ten minutes trying to teach himself how to use it, but kept failing. He got irritated after what seemed like the thousandth time attempting to get it to work, and he hit the top of the machine. He heard a snort from behind him and he froze. Whoever it was noticed, and after a moment, they sighed. "Would you like some help with that?" Said a gruff, yet smooth voice from behind him. Castiel had never heard anything else like it. It made him shiver. He'd spoken to other men with low voices such as that, but they were all very rough and at times hard to understand, but not this man's. It was low and rough, but had a smooth undertone to it, and somehow, strangely, reminded him a little of honey. "You seem to be having some. . . Trouble."

He turned around and found himself looking into a pair of piercing green eyes, and he was taken aback. Never, not once in his life, had he seen a person with such bright eyes. Come to think of it, he hadn't even met very many people with green eyes to begin with. Moving his gaze from the man's eyes, he saw that he had short, spiky, dirty blond hair, freckles splashed across his nose and cheeks, and full, pink lips, which he may have looked at a little too long. He tore his eyes from the man's mouth and connected them back with his and opened his own mouth to say something, but no words would come out. So he just sighed shamefully, looking at the machine, and nodded his head.

The man chuckled and put a hand on Castiel shoulder and carefully moved him to the side so he could get to the brewer. "Here, I got it." He watched the man as he pressed a serious of buttons and then the machine came to life. He felt kind of stupid now that he'd seen how to do it and that it was so simple. He hoped the guy didn't think he was stupid, that would really make him feel bad. When he was done, the man gave a satisfied sigh and turned back to Castiel.

"So. How come you don't know how to operate a coffee machine?" He asked, amusement twinkling behind his green eyes. "The only reason I can think of is that you don't drink coffee, but here you are, trying to make some. How does that work?" Castiel stood there trying to find words. While doing so he once again found himself just staring into the man's eyes, his gorgeous green eyes. . . He blinked and cleared his throat and finally just spoke the first words that came to his mind.

"No, I drink plenty of coffee. I just have a much older brewer back at my apartment and I've been sent to retrieve a cup for my boss."

"Ah, that would explain a lot." The man laughed. "So you're an assistant, then?"

"Yes, I am."

"Well, I definitely wouldn't have thought. You certainly don't dress like one." That comment made Castiel furrow his brows a bit and look down at his clothes, then back to the man in front of him.

"What's wrong with my clothes?" He asked.

"Nothing," he said, "nothing at all. It's just that most assistants in the building usually don't wear suits and ties. Or a. . . Trench coat. But you don't look bad, I'd say its a good look on you. But who am I to judge, I'm just a mere stranger." He gave Castiel a playful smile just as the timer on the coffee machine went off. He turned to grab a couple of mugs, and Castiel smiled a little. Man, did this guy have an incredible smile. And he said he looked good. . It made him a little giddy. He seemed to get better by the minute. . Wait, who was he kidding? He just met the guy and he was already distracting himself. He most likely wouldn't really ever see him again, so there was no point. The memory of him would just fade away over time. The man's voice was what pulled him out of his thoughts.

"Here we are. Two black coffees. Unless yours isn't supposed to be, then in that case there's milk and sugar right over there," he said, pointing to the end of the counter where a little black box with little pink bags and little tubs of creamer inside. "Well, I best be getting back upstairs. I have quite a few papers to go through and a couple calls to make. But it was nice talking to you."

Castiel didn't know what exactly to say, so he just responded with; "Likewise." But as he started to walk off, something popped into his mind. "Wait!" He said, "If your office is upstairs, what are you doing down here?" The question made the man chuckle, a sound that would probably taunt Castiel for the rest of the day, if not forever.

"I had to come talk business with someone who does work on this floor. And I figured I'd go ahead and grab something while I'm down here." He nodded, satisfied with the man's answer. "Now, I really got to go." He gave a slight wave as he walked off, and Castiel gave one back, although he couldn't see it.

He sighed to himself as he picked up the coffee mug off of the counter and headed back the way he came. He tapped on Mr. Johnson's door before stepping inside to hand him his coffee. He thanked him, and then gave him his first task. It was simple, there were files of photos that had just been sent in earlier that morning through email that needed to be gone through and sorted, for easier choosing when it came to that for the magazine later on. He graciously accepted and shut the door behind him and sat in his chair, spinning to face the computer in front of him. He right clicked with the mouse and sighed to himself as the picture of the man's face flashed inside his head. He tried to shake the image out but it would not leave. So he did his best to try and ignore it. Oh yes, today was going to be a long first day.

_**SUPERNATURAL**_

Dean's phone had been going off nonstop for the last few hours, since he came back upstairs. He hadn't been too focused on his work, either. His mind was occupied with other thoughts as he attempted to answer calls and do paperwork, check emails, start writing proposals; but he just couldn't focus. His coffee was sitting on his desk, half drunk and cold. He had actually forgotten it was there. He just couldn't stop thinking about the guy in the trench coat.

He thought again of how he had so much trouble trying to work the coffee machine. It brought an amused smile to his face. His phone kept going off, like it was feeling neglected and wanted attention, and it was screaming for it. But Dean didn't notice, and if he did, he ignored it. He just stared at the wall in front of him, at some point in the distance, and let his mind wander.

The moment he aw the guy downstairs, he knew he was one of the new workers. He just had this awkward vibe coming off of him, like he didn't want to embarrass himself on his first day. He was pretty sure he was right, but he wasn't jumping to conclusions that quickly. He didn't go down there too often anyway, so there's no way he could know for sure or not at the moment.

He thought of the moment he turned around. He almost stumbled back because how bright and vibrant his eyes were. It was almost like they were penetrating into his soul, revealing all of his secrets. It made him a little nervous, but it was also something he wanted more of; to stare into those gorgeous baby blue eyes. He closed his own and pictured the man's face, his eyes.

He pictured them standing, just looking at one another, Dean slowly reaching to take the other man's hand. . . Dean's eyes shot open and he shook his head vigorously. No, he couldn't do this. Not after he just met the guy! He didn't even know his name! Yet he was already daydreaming about him. . And with Dean's luck, the guy would be a hundred percent straight. Dean knew he was bi, he'd known for a year or so now, based on what happened while he was with his ex, Lisa.

Not many people knew he was bi, just a few people in the building, his family, and Lisa. He wasn't ashamed of it, but he wasn't open about it to everyone because his manager is a huge homophobe, and it would probably get him fired, regardless of how good he was at his job, which he excelled in, even with all the stress that came with it. So he kept quiet about it, and no one really asked. But if he was going to end up seeing this guy a lot more often than he thought he would, he might have a problem to deal with.

He took a deep breath and looked at the clock on the wall opposite of him, which read four thirty-two. Everyone gets off in thirteen minutes to go home and get ready for the party, while some of them, Dean included, would stay behind to help set up. He didn't really want to, but they needed volunteers, so he figured he would, he didn't have anything to do in that time, anyway, so why not? He shut everything down and gathered papers together, tucking them safely away in their files. By the time he finished with that, the clock read four forty. With a sigh he stood up from his chair and made his way to the door, poking his head out to speak to Charles.

"Hey." He said. Charles jumped at his voice, being so focused on his work. It made him smile a little, because he knew that's what he does when he gets entranced in his work, and that's why he can't stand the thought of ever letting him go.

"Yes, sir?" Charles replied.

"It's five till release. So, what do you say I cut you loose a little early today, huh? How does that sound?"

He grinned. "That sounds awesome!"

"Well good." Dean chuckled. "Then get going," he nodded his head towards the door. "Two fifteen until party time. I don't want you to be late, alright? You've already been late to something twice this week."

"Yes sir!" He said again. He packed up his things, and Dean gave him a couple pats on the back as he made his way to the door. Once he was gone, Dean took a look around the room. The party wouldn't be taking place on his floor, so he had no need to make the room cleaner than it already was. Besides, he liked it the way it was. There were some books and papers on the floor, but he liked it that way. He left with a nod and headed downstairs.

As soon as he set foot out of the elevator, a box was placed in his arms, causing him to grunt with the sudden weight. The contents of the box were piled high enough to block Dean's view of the person who put them there, so he turned his body and his head to see, and he found himself staring into the face of Charlie Bradbury. She gave him one of her normal, goofy smiles.

"Hey, Dean!" She said cheerfully. "Sorry about the sudden load, but someone said, via text message, that they saw you on your way down here, and I need help setting this stuff up. I hope you don't mind." He thought about protesting by saying he just got there or needed some coffee or something, but Charlie was now looking at him sheepishly, and he couldn't say no. He thought she was adorable. Dean had always thought she was adorable, from the day he met her, but he probably wouldn't ever date her, she was just too much like the little sister Dean had never wanted. In a good way.

"Nah, I don't mind, Charlie." He admitted. "Just just give a guy a warning next time before you heave a box of. . . Banners, and. . Table cloths. . In his face?"

"Sorry," She breathed. Then she grabbed his sleeve and started leading him somewhere else. "Come on, we need to get this done so I can go to my apartment and bake those pies I plan on making tonight." She stopped pulling him and took the box from his arms, setting it on a table that had been put out. But Dean just stared at her as she pulled a stool out from underneath it with a half amused, half excited smile on his face.

"Pies, huh?" He said, and Charlie giggled.

"Yes, Dean, pie. I already know how much you love pie, we all do. You can thank me later."

"Yes, but are you making two pies or three? You know, one for the party and one for me; or two for the party and one for me? Cause I'm fine either way." That made Charlie throw her head back in laughter.

"Three, Dean. You know I don't make pie and not make you one. But you're going to have to suck it up and deal with cherry." She said with a wink, setting the stool in front of him by the wall. "Now, let's get this done, so I can get going and get started on those." They smiled at each other, and with a soft laugh, Dean stepped up onto the stool and they started hanging up the banners. By the time they had done the whole floor, it was about six O'clock. Charlie had to hurry home to start baking, and Dean just went home to put on a better suit, and wait out the forty five minutes he had until seven. And for most of that time, even though he had been trying not to, he thought about the coffee guy.

_**SPN**_

Dean pulled into the parking lot at exactly seven in his blue 67 Chevy Impala, his most prized possession. Some of his friends made fun of him for caring for his car as much as he did, but he didn't really care. He once caught someone say something bad about his car, and he cracked down on the guy. There's one thing you never, ever do around Dean Winchester, and that's make fun or talk dirty about his baby.

He made his way into the building and up to the floor that the party was being held on, and was immediately greeted by Charlie.

"Hey," he said, slightly surprised she was there so early. "How'd you get here before I did, you know, so early? I don't think those pies could be done.." He gave her a sideways look that made her smile.

"Oh, yeah, I only got two made at home, the last one is in the oven in the kitchen. And that's the one I made for you! It's in a larger pan than the two others. . " She trailed off when she saw the goofy smile spreading across Dean's features, then lightly smacked his arm. "Oh, don't do that! Get in there," She said, nodding her head behind her as a gesture. "You have people to talk to. Things to discuss. Now, go." She lightly shoved him foreword and then went back to the kitchen to watch over the pies.

The next half hour went by in a blur. He held conversations with people until the next person pulled him away to speak with him. They would talk about business related things, and they would also talk about every day things, like sports or the news, or just share stories. But the whole time he was doing all that, he was keeping an eye out for someone without meaning to. His friends had to keep getting his attention back. They would ask him if he was okay or if something was wrong and he would reply with either "yeah, I'm fine. Why do you ask?" or "no, nothing is wrong. Why do you think that?" and when they would answer he gave a short reply, and continued the conversation, leading it in a different direction.

He finally broke away from endless conversations at almost seven thirty. It was at that time he glanced at the entrance, and he was standing there. In a nice navy blue suit, blue tie, and his tan trench coat. The guy looked extremely nervous, as he kept messing with his coat and suit jacket, and his eyes were darting around like he was analyzing the space and trying to find people who would talk to him. Dean thought about going over, so he took a look around the big room in hopes to see someone who might have more in depth info about him, but when he looked back, the man was gone. Now he would have to find him! If he was even that lucky. He normally wasn't, and that's why he was starting to feel weary about the whole thing. He shook his head and turned the other way, bumping into Tyler Johnson, who was talking to. . .

"Ah, just the person we were talking about!" Tyler beamed. "I have someone I'd like you to meet." He moved out of the way so Dean could see the guy. It was definitely him, the guy from the coffee machine. His blue eyes widened some and Dean could only imagine that's what his face also looked at right at that moment. "Dean, this is Castiel Novak, my new design assistant. Castiel, this is Dean Winchester. He's treasurer. Very important, yet stressful job. How he manages to keep up with all that work, and still have time to himself, still amazes me up to this very day!"

Dean chuckled as he laid a hand on his shoulder. "Well," he said, looking at his friend, "I don't get off task frequently, Tyler. You should try it sometime. It might help you with the lack of time you're always complaining about." Tyler looked away, but not without rolling his eyes, which made Dean crack a smile.

"Whatever, Winchester. But we both know I do some pretty good work, nevertheless."

"Yeah, that's true. But you could still focus a little more, just saying."

"Oh, come on. I don't slack off _that_ much."

"Don't you? You want to bet on that? I could set up a little camera in your office so your new pal here can count the number of times you go off task and play Minecraft, or World of Warcraft, or whatever it is you nerds do."

"No, no, that's not necessary. And I prefer the term geek, thank you." Tyler noted. Dean looked over at the new guy-Castiel-who had a smile growing on his face. It was a small one, slightly nervous, but he couldn't help but think it was kind of cute.

"Alright," Dean sighed. He looked behind Castiel, and when he did, a co worker caught his eye and waved, then pointed at Tyler like they wanted him. So he leaned over and nudged him with his elbow. "Hey," he said, nodding his head in the direction the guy waved from. "I think you're being summoned." Tyler looked in the direction he motioned and nodded his head once.

"That I am. Okay, so I'm going to go talk to some other gentlemen, so you two can keep talking, or awkwardly walk away from one another." He started to walk off, but spun back around and stuck his head in between the two of them and said, "But if you do decide to talk, just have fun, please. But not too much fun." With that, he winked at Dean and walked away, leaving Dean alone with Castiel. Dean rolled his eyes in his mind at Tyler's wink.

They stood in awkward silence for a moment before Dean finally thought of something to say. "So. . " He began, "Today was your first day, huh?" He looked at Castiel and scratched the back of his neck nervously.

"Yeah. . It was a long first day, too." He said, and Dean chuckled lightly.

"Oh, we're not that bad a group of people, are we?" He joked.

"No, of course not," he said quickly. He looked as if Dean had actually meant the comment as a real question. "The people I have met so far have been very kind to me. I like it here very much. It's just today I've had a. . . A lot on my mind as I was working."

"Dude, it's fine. It was a joke. I'd say we're surrounded by a friendly atmosphere. But I completely understand. Today hasn't exactly been the shortest day on thinking for me, either. Trust me." Castiel cocked his head to the side slightly, causing his short, dark brown curls to bounce a little. Dean felt an urge to reach his hand out and put them back, but he refrained from doing so. There was another short silence until Dean cleared his throat and said the first thing that came to his mind that wasn't something like pushing his hair back into place. "So what made you want to work here? I mean like, how did it catch your attention? Is there anything else that you'd like to be doing or did you want to work here, or did you do it for the money, or what?" Castiel's eyes lit up at the question.

"Oh, no. It was my full intention to get this job. I love designing things. Actually, the walls of my room back at my apartment are covered with them. My family wanted me to be a surgeon, but I just couldn't get into it. They wanted me to do that because I'm good at helping sick and injured people, and probably for the money. But my heart is in designing, any kind of designing, really. The idea of creation and and new things from one's mind is intriguing to me." Dean didn't say anything for a moment as he was thinking about his answer.

"Wow. You're really into it, aren't you, Captain Creation?" Castiel turned his head to the side again, and Dean cracked another smile.

"I'm not sure if I understand. I'm not the 'Captain of Creation'. I merely design in spite of my interests." He said.

"Yes, my mistake. Thank you, Sargent Seriousness." Dean said. When Castiel's face became even more confused, he couldn't help but bust out laughing, earning himself some stares from coworkers near them. He calmed himself down and said, still laughing, "It's all sarcasm, man. No need to get all technical on me."

"Oh," he said, and his face went back to normal, but changed again almost immediately, looking almost sheepish. "I've been told before that I'm not very good at understanding sarcasm in any form of its usage." Dean couldn't help the way this guy had started talking the last few minutes.

"Hey," he said, "what's with the formal speech?" Castiel just shrugged.

"That's also something I have been informed of that I do when I become aware of my surroundings in an uncomfortable manner." He admits, and Dean just nods.

"Huh." Is all he said, but he smiled to himself. The guy wasn't just cute and shy and bad with technology, but he had nervous habits, too. Dean thought it was cute. He was liking this guy more and more as the time passed, and he hadn't even known him for twelve hours yet. But it's not like it mattered, anyway. Dean knowing where his luck was, the guy would be a hundred and ten percent straight and they wouldn't even be a possibility. He was pulled from his thoughts by his name being called.

"Dean!" He turned to see his friend and office neighbor, Rufus, waving him over. He held up a finger fort hem to wait a minute as he turned back to Castiel.

"It looks like it's my turn to be summoned. Sorry to bail on you so soon, but they can get impatient real quick. So, I guess I'll see you around, Castiel?"

"Yes, of course, Dean." Is all he said. Dean parted with a single head nod then made his way over to Rufus and the two others he was standing with, Tyler and sales assistant Jo Harvelle.

"What?" Dean said, but it came out a little harsher than he meant to, and they all gave him a strange look.

"We just wanted to pull you over," Jo said, "they're about to start."

"Oh." He said, "Awesome." Dean forced a smile just as the sound of silverware on glass rang through the room.

A short man in a coal black suit and blood red tie, with short black hair, pulled out a chair to stand on it so he could be seen by all in the room. "Hello everyone, and thank you for coming tonight!" He beamed. "Most of you may already know, but for those of you who don't, my name is Crowley. You know, the guy who determines if you keep your job!" He started laughing, and so did a handful of others. "I welcome all new employees who started today, and I wish you a great rest of the week. Bobby Singer was unable to make it tonight, so he asked me to take care of everything, so I said I would. Now, I have quite a few little awards and a few speeches to present, so I hope you're comfortable where you're standing!" Another round of laughter.

After that bit Dean stopped paying attention to Crowley and lost himself in his thoughts, mainly about Castiel. About his bright, vibrant blue eyes, his dark, curly hair, about his tan trench coat, which he seemed fond of, about they way he would wet his lips almost every time before talking to someone, about his lips, about how it would feel if he were to be able to. . . _No_. What was he doing? Less than twelve hours, and he was already thinking non stop about the guy. He needed to leave.

Dean leaned over and tapped Tyler on the shoulder, who leaned over without looking at him. "What is it?" Tyler whispers.

"I need to go," Dean said. He needed a lie to cover for him. A believable lie. . . "I told my brother Sam I'd give him a call tonight before nine, and it's already a little past eight." Tyler nodded in acceptance, and Dean made his way to the kitchen to grab his pie on the way out. But he didn't get very far before Tyler was gripping his wrist, pulling him back.

"One last thing, Winchester." He told him. "I saw you checking Castiel out earlier. You got the hots for him, don't you?" Dean just stared at him, not sure at all of what to say. He felt his cheeks flush as he looked back at Crowley, who was still busy with his speech to really notice anything. When he looked back at his friend, he was all seriousness towards Dean. "You _know_ you can't do that here, it could get you in trouble. Fired, even. You know what Crowley thinks of it. It's risky to do that here, and you know it. I'm just trying to watch out for you, so don't get angry."

"I know, Tyler. I'm being careful about it. I'm trying my best, but sometimes I can't help it. Now, I need to go. I'll see you tomorrow."

"All right. Catch you later, Dean." He nodded and made his way into the kitchen, snatching his pie off of the counter and headed to the exit. He took the elevator down to the lobby and pushed through the doors as he dug out his car keys from his pocket. He made it to the trunk before he heard footsteps behind him. He set the pie down on the hood of the trunk and got ready to fight, but when the person spoke, he loosened up instantly. He turned and found himself face to face with Castiel, who looked at him questioningly.

"What are you doing out here, Castiel? You should go back inside."

"What are you doing, Dean? Shouldn't you be inside also?"

"Nah. I've gone through all that before, several times. You, on the other hand, should go back inside, before someone notices you missing." Dean told him, but he shook his head.

"I'd rather be getting back to my apartment anyway. It's not too far a walk, so I should be fine." He said.

"Whoa, whoa, hold up. You walk to work? Why?" Castiel took a deep breath before answering .

"Yes, it's complicated. But, long story short, the car I had broke down a while ago and no one has been able it fix it. So yes, I've been walking or taking the bus to get to where I need to go." Dean stared at him, he was surprised. The nearest apartments were five and a half miles away. How could he walk that every day, plus the distance back? Besides, it was dark, so there was no way he was letting Castiel walk home in the dark, alone.

"All right, some on." He said, and walked around to the driver's side of his car.

"Excuse me?" Castiel asked.

"I said come on." Dean motioned to his car, but Castiel just stared at him. "Look, I'm not going to let you walk five and a half miles, by yourself, in the dark. It's not safe, even here. So come on, I'm giving you a ride." Castiel stood there pondering Dean's offer, then sighed.

"You won't take no for an answer, will you?" He asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"Nope!" He exclaimed, and flashed Castiel a smile, who rolled his eyes and took his spot in the passenger seat of the Impala. Dean shut the door and revved up the engine, and Castiel didn't say anything until they were on the way down the road.

"What kind of car is this?"

"A nineteen sixty-seven Chevy Impala!" Dean said proudly. "My dad gave her to me for my sixteenth birthday, told me to take real good care of her. I haven't let him down. I won't drive anything else. This car is my baby! I don't think I could live without her." He patted the dashboard and looked over at Castiel, who was giving him a somewhat strange look.

"You are very. . . Fond, of your car, I see." Castiel said slowly, making Dean chuckle.

"Well, Cas-you know what? Can I call you that? Just Cas? It's easier to say."

"Sure. Actually, I kind of like that. Cas."

"Cool. Now, let's just say if anyone tried to hurt my baby, I'd send their ass straight down to the deepest pits of hell."

"That's. ." He paused, choosing his words carefully. "Good to know." Dean watched Cas carefully as he gave him a shy smile, and turned to look out the window. Dean faced back to the road in front of him and took a silent breath. The rest of the car ride was silent, except for the cassette tape Dean put in after about a mile or so and the glances that were exchanged between them from time to time. Cas finally broke the silence about a block from his apartment.

"Dean, do you think maybe sometime I could use your car for a design idea? It's very nice. I personally think it would look good on the cover of a magazine. But that's just me. . " Dean looked at him for a moment surprised, then he smiled. Cas thought he saw something flash behind Dean's eyes, but he couldn't register what it was.

"Yeah, sure! That'd be awesome." He beamed. Dean turned the wheel and pulled into the apartment's parking lot where Cas stayed. He picked a parking spot and pulled into it, then looked at Cas. "Didn't you say you had a ton of designs in your apartment earlier?"

"Yes."

"What kind of designs?"

"Oh, all kinds. Buildings, groups of people, cars, landscapes, even some clothing. . Like I said, just the idea of creation from the mind and from another features of life through another's hands is interesting, in my opinion." Cas paused for a second, then asked, "Would you like to see them?" Dean looked at the apartment building before he shrugged.

"Sure, why not?" He said. "Let's go have a look." Cas smiled as he unbuckled and got out of the Impala, brandishing his keys from his trench coat pocket. He couldn't believe what had just happened. He was going to go inside this guy's place, and he just met him that day. It was just to look at some stuff, but it didn't matter. He was still going inside. Dean took a deep breath before he stepped out of his car and followed Cas inside.

_**SUPERNATURAL**_

_Ta-da! I hope that makes up for the absence. I hope to have the next one up sooner than I did this one, but knowing I still need to type it all up and manage schoolwork at the same time is going to be difficult. But I WILL try, for you guys ! Please leave a review! They mean a lot and really help me. All opinions/thoughts help. Also, the more reviews. . The faster I type; just saying. ;) Thank y'all for reading! More chapters to come!_


	3. Chapter 3

_Hey y'all! It's been sooo long since I've posted on this, my goodness. Over a month. I feel so bad! Don't hate me! School is hell, they give us way too much homework. I have been working on it the whole time, but I don't have that much time at once to work on it. I'm trying to maintain 3 chapter stories, so that adds to it as well. I'm going to try to update every 2-4 weeks now, if I go over that time I'm very sorry. But, there's more fluff in this chapter, so I hope that makes up for it!_

_So, enjoy the chapter!_

_**SUPERNATURAL**_

When Dean stepped into Cas' apartment, he almost regretted wearing such a warm suit that night. His apartment was very warm, but he didn't want to take off his jacket. He watched the other man as he shrugged off his trench coat and hung it by the door, and tossed his keys on the little coffee table. He gestured to the couch and said to Dean, "Please, make yourself comfortable." as he went into his small kitchen to the refrigerator. When he returned, he held two beers in his hands and handed one to Dean. Their fingers brushed lightly as he reached for the bottle and Dean tried not to blush, but Cas didn't seem to notice. He just took a seat next to him.

They sat in an awkward silence for a few minutes, briefly making eye contact for a couple seconds at a time before they both looked away. Dean focused his attention on the drawings that were splayed over the table, some finished and some not quite done. His gaze landed on a drawing of a Dodge Ram truck, and Dean carefully picked it up to observe it. He had every little detail almost perfect. The rims on the tires, the shine on the metal from the sun, the shadows on the ground. Flawless. He could feel Cas watching him as he observed his work, probably waiting to hear Dean's thoughts on it. He spent a couple more minutes in the silence before he was finally able to tear his eyes away and look at the artist next to him.

"So," Dean finally said, "you drew this?"

"Yes." Cas nodded.

"You didn't trace it or anything?"

"Of course not. I actually did this one a few days ago. One of the apartment's residents had their truck parked a few spots down from where mine was parked, still broken down, of course. So I went over with my sketchbook and a pencil and started drawing. I was out maybe an hour before the owner of the car came out and got upset with me because he thought I was preparing to break in or something, but when he saw my drawing, I think I may have surprised him. He wasn't angry anymore. But he did notify me he had to be somewhere, so I had to finish the drawing by memory." Cas said. "I was just about finished when he left anyway, so it worked out perfectly fine. You like it, I assume?"

"It's incredible, Cas. I've never seen anyone besides Tyler who can draw like this." He said in awe. "In fact, don't tell him I said so, but you may be better at it." Dean gave Cas a warm smile, which he happily returned. Dean went back to observing the drawings on the table, making comments every now and then which brought a smile to Cas' face each time. He took a long swig of beer before he picked up an unfinished sketch of the office building, with its reflection bouncing off the lake below. The guy truly had a knack for it. A true talent. A talent that made Dean even more fond of him.

Dean took another drink from his bottle before setting down the drawing of a couple sitting at an outdoor table at one of the local restaurants. "Is this all you have or are there more?"

"Oh no, I have many more. Most I brought with me, but a few I've done since I got here. Most of the recent ones are these right here. The rest are on my bedroom walls. Come on, I'll show you." He finished off his beer in three swallows and set the bottle down, pushing himself off the couch and walking down the hall. Dean set his drink down and followed, and when he got to the very end, he walked through the door Cas was holding open for him and quietly gasped at the sight in front of him.

There almost wasn't any space of wall not covered by a sketch. Almost every inch was decorated with careful strokes of granite. He turned in a full three sixty to see it all. Every wall was labeled with drawings. He didn't realize his mouth had opened a little until he heard Cas chuckle. Dean looked at Cas, face still filled with awe. "Damn, Cas." Was all he could say, and it bought him a goofy grin that he immediately wanted to see more of.

"You know, if you want, Dean, when I get a chance to draw your impala, I could draw you into the photo as well. But, of course, you'd have to stand still for an hour or so, so I can. It's up to you, but I think it would be an interesting project." Cas suggested. Dean looked at him and raised an eyebrow at the suggestion. "Don't take this in a creepy way, but you do sort of have a face good for modeling." That comment made Dean laugh. He looked at Cas an nodded a couple of times.

"Yeah, that's sounds like a cool idea. We'll have to meet up one day sometime soon to do that." He smiled at Cas again and he returned it. His eyes swept over the room again and landed on his nightstand, where a few pictures were placed next to an alarm clock. Dean walked over and picked up the one in the middle. It was of Cas and two others, a boy and a girl. The boy had brown hair and a mischievous grin, and was several inches shorter than Cas. The girl, who was only two or three inches shorter than Cas, had red hair that went just past her shoulders, which complimented her eyes very well.

"Who are these two in the picture with you?" Dean asked him. Cas came over and gently took the photograph from Dean's hand, and he looked at it for a brief moment before a small smile played at his lips. It was almost like he was reliving that day in his head.

"That would be my brother, Gabriel, on the right. And my sister, Anna, on the left." He replied. "Goodness, it feels like decades ago this was taken. It was a good day. I got to spend it with the two people I care about most." He stared at the picture a little while longer and sighed before he handed it back to Dean, who looked at it for a little while longer before setting it back on the nightstand.

"You must really miss them." He said.

"Yes, I miss them very much. They've helped me through a lot throughout my life. Nowadays, I don't get to see them often." Cas said. He couldn't help but notice the tinge of sadness in Cas' voice.

"How come?"

"Things sort of. . Happened, a little while ago. I don't really like to talk about it."

"Alright." Dean said. "Well, do you have any other siblings?" He looked around for any other pictures he might have, but there were none. He looked up at Cas, who seemed to be trying to choose his words carefully.

"Yes, I do. I have many brothers, although Anna is my only sister." He replied.

"Do have any pictures of them lying around?" Cas' face changed at that, into something of sadness and anger.

"No." He said sternly. "I'd much rather try to forget them then have their pictures reminding me of them." He made his way to the edge of the bed and sat on it, resting his elbows on his thighs and wringing his hands together. "They're actually the reason I came here in the first place."

"And why is that?" Dean asked. He could tell he would need to choose his own words carefully, to be sure he didn't upset Cas more than he already seemed. He took a deep breath before he looked up at Dean.

"Well. . I was. . Well, my brother, Michael, kicked me out. He kicked me out and no one did anything about it. Gabriel and Anna are the only ones who tried to stand up for me. And although I appreciate it, it doesn't change what the others didn't do." By the time Cas finished talking, he was staring sadly at the picture of him and his two siblings on his nightstand. Dean couldn't quite process what he had just heard.

"They. . He. . He kicked you out?" He asked, just to be sure he had heard correctly. When Cas nodded, he was stunned. He looked at Cas and shook his head in disbelief. "Why?" He asked. Cas opened his mouth to respond, but closed it, along with his eyes, and took a breath to calm his nerves. Dean regretted asking him why a little as he watched his new friend search for words to respond with.

"Well, basically. . " Cas began, then shook his head like he no longer liked his choice of words. He took on another short moment of silence then spoke again, his tone laced with bitterness.

"Let's just say that he wasn't too fond of my sexuality and life choices."

"So. . He kicked you out because you're. . . Gay?"

"If you put it that way, yes. It was the night I decided to. . . Come out, to them. He kicked me out almost as soon after I said I liked other men. He wasn't very light about it, either." But this time, Cas was staring at the opposite wall in front of him. He looked so sad, and Dean hurt for him. He would never know what that feels like, he can only imagine. But he knew that wasn't near the real thing. "Wait, why am I telling you all this? I've only known you for what, twelve hours? Thirteen?" Now he just sounded exasperated, and he looked at Dean to see if he had a good way to answer.

"I don't know," he said, "Maybe you just know somehow you can trust me, without actually coming to know it yet, you know what I mean?" Cas looked at him a moment longer before averting his gaze, but he didn't say anything. "And with all honesty here man, you can trust me. Okay? I'm not one of those douchebags who go spilling people's personal lives to everyone."

"Okay, I understand. I'm sorry, I'm just. . It's still a fresh wound, you know? It's. . . hard to talk about."

"Cas, it's fine. If you need to vent, then by all means, go ahead. Just don't turn it into a chick-flick moment. I hate those." He looked at Cas and smiled a little, and he couldn't help but laugh.

"I'll keep that in mind." Cas said with a smile. He paused, then he asked Dean, "Do you have any siblings?"

"Me? Yeah, I got a little brother. His name is Sam, and. . . I love him more than anything. Even though he can be a bitch sometimes." He winked at Cas and strode across the room to look at one of his drawings of the coast. "But I am glad he accepts me." He added.

"Wait," Cas said, standing up and taking a couple steps towards him. "So, are you gay as well?"

"No," he said instantly. Dean realized how that must have sounded to Cas, so he cleared his throat and turned to face him. "No. I'm bi. Sam didn't freak when I told him, and I'm glad for that."

"Oh." Was all Cas said.

Dean shrugged. "Yeah, well, not everyone is accepting. But I'm still sorry. About what happened to you."

"It's not your fault, Dean." He sighed.

"Yeah, I know. I should probably get going. Thanks for letting me see these, they're pretty awesome, Cas."

"Of course." Dean started out and Cas followed him to his front door. He stepped out of the apartment and Cas held out his hand. "Thank you again for the ride. I will see you in the morning?" Dean took his hand and shook it with a smile.

"Yeah. I'll see you tomorrow." They stopped shaking, but kept eye contact and their hands stayed attached for longer than necessary. It took a minute before they noticed, and Dean was the first to remove his hand with a cough, and a shy smile. They bid each other goodnight one last time and then parted ways.

When Dean stepped into his car, he was in a good mood. He had a chance with him. He actually had a chance. He pulled out of the parking lot after sticking in one of his cassette tapes and found himself drumming his hands on the steering wheel. He couldn't contain his happiness. The guy seemed pretty great, and he was an awesome artist. Actually, now that he'd thought about it, the only other artist he'd met and befriended was Tyler. He had a three day weekend in two weeks from now, maybe he'd be able to get Cas to come sketch him and his baby then. The offer had surprised him, but he was thrilled.

The ride back to his own apartment had seemed much shorter than usual. Maybe it was because he was happy, or that his mind was occupied, he wasn't sure. Once he was in his apartment, he tossed his keys on his dresser in his room and threw himself onto his bed, crossing his arms behind his head. He stared at the ceiling and let out a sigh. Now, he needed a way to get Cas to like him. But before he could do that, he needed one piece of information; was Cas even interested in him?

**_SUPERNATURAL_**

Cas stayed up later than usual that night, unable to clear his mind of the day's events. But mostly; unable to clear his mind of Dean. He could still feel the spark of energy that ran through him when he took his hand to shake it. He had only felt that with one other person, but he tried to keep clear of that person and his memories of him. In fact, it pained and scared him to even think about him. But that was his past, and he was still trying to move on. Maybe Dean would finally give him what he needed to take that last big step and be free from it.

He was sitting on his bed with his back on the headboard, holding the drawing of the truck that Dean had admired so much, in his hands. Was it really that impressive? He could see many flaws, but of course, he was the artist. Artists always see the little flaws that no one else could see that made it imperfect to them. But he stared at it, trying to look at it as Dean did, as an observer, not an artist. It was hard, trying to see a different perspective, but the more he tried, the easier he got, and he was finally able to push aside the flaws, momentarily, and saw the beauty Dean was able to see. "Wow." He said out loud. Maybe he did have talent.

But what had really been on his mind since Dean left is what he had said. "I'm bi." It had very much surprised him, it was not what he had been expecting at all. He knew he wasn't gay, but he wasn't expecting him to be bi, either. But, in other words, it meant there was a chance for him. A slight chance to form a. . More profound bond with Dean. It would happen over a course of time, but it was possible. The only detail he was missing was; did Dean even see him in that way? He hoped he did. And even so, before he would let anything happen, he wanted to get to know him better. Spend more one-on-one time with him and talk to him. That's how the best relationships started, right?

Cas stayed up for another half hour before he started feeling drowsy, so he propped the drawing up on the edge of one of his photos on his nightstand and went to prepare for bed. He took a hot shower and brushed his hair and teeth, then pulled on a t-shirt and a pair of boxers and climbed into bed, nestling under the warmth of the covers. He let his mind wander and his thoughts lulled him to sleep. Thoughts of dirty blond hair, green eyes, and freckles.

_**SPN**_

He awoke the next day in the best mood a morning has brought him in a very long time, and the smile on his face never seemed to leave as he carried on with his morning routine. Shower, coffee, email check, personal hygiene. When he shrugged on his trench coat, the smile was still plastered on his face.

He made it to the bus stop on time, and the bus driver was glad. Cas bid him good morning and took the seat he sat in yesterday morning. The smile never left his face the whole ride, his mind still stuck on Dean. He thought he might already seem a little obsessed, but he didn't care all that much. Cas had stuck Dean's favorite drawing in his pocket for when he ran into him. He thanked the bus driver when they arrived at the corners of the two streets, and headed to the office building. He pushed through the doors and picked up his pace, eager to start working.

Once he made it to his workspace, he hung his trench coat on the hanger by the door, and went to tell Tyler he had arrived. But he wrapped his hand around the door knob and heard voices, only catching part of a sentence. He knew one voice belonged to his boss, but the other voice was. . . Dean?

". . . Could help me out."

"I want to help you, I do, but if I say something Crowley won't like and he finds out. . I could possibly lose my job." Tyler said.

"I know. And I hate to ask you while he's still hanging around, but if I'm going to do anything about it, I need to know. I don't want to ruin a friendship before it even starts because I think they're cute. I know too much of what that's like, and it sucks." Cas heard the guy sigh, and then there was a short pause. "Man, I hate begging. . Please?" There was another short pause before Tyler finally sighed.

"Alright. Fine. I'll do what I can."

"Thanks, man." The man said.

"Yeah, yeah. But if I loose my job for this, you're paying for my groceries." Cas could hear the smile in Tyler's voice.

"Deal." The other guy laughed. That moment is when Cas pushed open the door, silencing the two men. And the mystery man was indeed, Dean.

"I just wanted to tell you I'm here and ready to work, Mr. Johnson."

"What did I tell you? Call me Tyler, please." He smiled at Cas and he smiled back.

"Okay. . . Tyler." He looked over at Dean who was staring at him and gave him a head nod. "Hello, Dean." He said.

Dean gave a small nod back, and Cas thought he saw the corner of his mouth twitch upwards. "Cas. How you feeling today?"

"I'm feeling very well, thank you for asking. And yourself?"

"Ah, well. . Almost as good as pie tastes. Almost." He laughed at his own words once he finished, and Cas rolled his eyes and smiled at the ground. When he looked up, he saw that Tyler was looking back and forth between them.

"Whoa, hang on just a second. Cas? Where'd that one come from? And when?"

"Well," Cas began, "Dean was nice enough to save me from walking home in the dark by offering me a ride home last night, and he asked me during the drive if he may be allowed to call me that, because my full name is apparently hard to pronounce."

"I never said it was hard to say." Dean told him.

"As a matter of fact, you did. If I recall, you specifically said that it is 'easier to say'. Which implies that my full name is difficult."

"Okay, okay." Tyler said. "Party. Homeward bound. Drive. Question. Got it. Now, Dean; don't you have some papers to read over?"

"Sadly, yes. I do. I'll catch up with you later." He strode past Cas but not without saying "I'll talk to you later." with a smile. It took Cas a moment, but he remembered the drawing in his pocket. He stuck his hand in his trench coat, and took a couple steps in the direction of the door and called, "Dean!" He whirled around and raised his eyebrows expectingly.

He pulled the piece of paper from his pocket and held it out to Dean, who walked a couple paces towards him and took it, looking at it a moment before looking back at Cas a little shocked.

"I know how much you enjoyed it, and I don't have much use for it. So I thought you might like to have it instead." Cas said, hopeful he would take his gift. Dean looked at the sketch once more and then back to Cas, his face a mix of shock and bewilderment. But there was something else, too, that didn't register on his face; but in his eyes. There was a spark of something else.

"Cas. . " Dean started. "Cas, I can't take this. You worked so hard on it, I don't want to take a chance of loosing it or ruining it."

"Dean, it's yours. You have more appreciation for it than I, and I'd like you to have it." Dean stared at him for a while longer, his lips parted a bit.  
>That's when he saw the spark again in Dean's piercing green eyes, and this time he could easily tell what it was. Dean was touched. He may or may not be touched to a full extent, but a little is enough to turn the corners of his mouth up.<p>

"Well, I guess since it's a gift. No take backs, right?" Dean said while flashing him a bright white, beautiful smile. It was now his favorite thing.

"No take backs." Cas said, and Dean chuckled.

"Good." He said. "Thanks man." Cas gave him another smile as he turned and left. Had he imagined it, or was Dean actually touched by his gesture? He knew he liked the picture, but not that much. Unless, it wasn't just about the picture for him. . He had overheard Dean say he thought someone was cute. Maybe he was talking about a girl who worked in the building.. But maybe he wasn't.

A few minutes passed before a tap on his shoulder snapped him out of his daze. "You alright there?" Tyler asked him.

"Yes, I'm fine." He responded. There was a moment of silence after that, before Tyler coughed into his sleeve and looked at Cas again.

"So," he finally said as he leaned against the door frame. "What do you think of Dean?" Cas turned around to face his boss at this question, tilting his head to the side. In what way did he mean? Him as a person? His looks? His work strategies?

"In which way are you referring your question?" He asked. Tyler looked away from him for a second or two, then looked back like he knew something.

"How do you think I'm referring it?" He asked back, stressing the you. Maybe he was talking about his feelings towards him. But he wasn't sure which he wanted to know. He took a little while to answer, but he did, still unsure.

"Do you mean my feelings towards him?"

"If you want it to mean that, then yes." Cas could feel a little nervousness start to build up in his chest. Why, though, he did not understand. He was going to be himself here, not hide anything. He could trust Tyler, just like he trusted Dean. So why was he becoming so nervous? He heard Tyler sigh, and watched him as he stood up straight and came to stand in front of him. All he did was observe Cas for a few minutes, studying his face. For all Cas knew he was probably pale by the time he opened his mouth to speak. "Castiel," he said carefully, "You know you can trust me, right? You can tell me anything. I promise I won't go spilling secrets."

Cas opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out so he closed it; so Tyler continued. "I've also noticed the way you look at him. I don't want to upset you or anything, but if I were to guess, I'd say someone's getting a little crush on their new friend." Tyler just looked at him and quirked an eyebrow, waiting for a response. All Cas could do was stare at him. He could feel heat rushing into his face and he knew he was blushing. A smug smile made its way to his boss' face and he patted Cas on the shoulder. "And my suspicions are confirmed. Don't worry, I'm perfectly fine with it. Although," he walked behind Cas and back into his office, gesturing for him to follow. So he did, and closed the door behind him. Tyler went over and leaned on the front of his desk, resting his hands on the wood on either side of him.

"There are some people you want to keep that information from; one in particular." He said. Cas gave him a puzzled look.

"I don't understand." He said, and Tyler sighed again.

"This isn't exactly a safe zone for people like you. There are a few homophobes. And that guy Crowley, you know, the guy who showed up in place of Bobby Singer? He's the guy you really have to steer clear of. He is an extreme homophobe, he won't stand for it. I had a good friend who used to work here, in fact her office was right next door to mine. She was very good at what she did. Crowley came to check up on things and walked in on her kissing her girlfriend goodbye, and he flipped.

"She was fired very shortly after and forced to have her things packed and out of the office by the end of the day. I haven't spoken to her in nearly a year. It saddens me, but there's not too much I could have done about it without getting fired myself. But she knew that." He took a deep breath. Cas' mood spiraled down the more he spoke. He had been so excited to be himself and not have to worry. Now he was going to have to do just the opposite. He let out a depressed sigh of his own and waited for Tyler to continue, who was looking at him apologetically.

"I can give you a list of people and their pictures of who to be careful around, but other than that, you'll be perfectly fine. Just don't be careless about your actions because that never ends well. I just suspected and so I felt like I should find out and warn you. I hope you're not mad at me, Castiel." Cas just stared at him, both grateful for the information and sad that he would have to continue to hide behind an image, a mirage of himself. He'd been doing it for such a long time it had become second nature for him. It wouldn't be a hard thing to uphold, just depressing.

"I am not mad at you. I am grateful for the information. Thank you, Tyler, for letting me know. I promise I will be careful. And as for Dean. . I will do my best to keep my feelings from becoming visible to others." Cas said, and Tyler gave him a tight smile.

"Alright, good. Now, I have some camera cartridges I need you to organize, there's a few boxes under the window filled with them. I bought some things to put them in so they will fit on my shelves. So you can go ahead and get started on that, while I write these emails." Tyler told him. Cas nodded once and exited his office, making sure the door was closed behind him. He went over to the boxes and picked one up, bringing it to some bags that were set on the floor in front of the shelves. He started going through them and putting them away, but not with a clear head.

He kept trying to remember what Crowley had looked like, as he didn't get that great of a look at him the night before. He had bits and pieces, but he eventually gave up and told himself he would wait for Tyler's list. Cas knew his day would be filled with thoughts of Tyler's words of warning and his own thoughts of himself and thoughts of Dean. He was always on his mind. Cas wished he knew what seemed so different about him. He took a long, deep breath and tried to focus on his work. He knew if he really wanted to keep this job he would have to, he'd make it work. He'd start down the path of a great friendship with Dean, even if that's all it would ever be. They had only known one another for just over forty eight hours and he already liked having him around. And Dean seemed to be feel the same way, or at least he thought he did. So, he would try his best to make it work. He'd make it work, for Dean. He wasn't sure how things would work out, but he did know he wanted to try.

_**SUPERNATURAL**_

_AN:_

_So what do you think? Good chapter? Am I writing in the development of their feelings in too fast? I'd love to know what you think! Please leave a review and let me know! It always makes me happy to know people are excited about a next chapter in my works. :) So please let me know! Thank you all for reading!_


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